31.10.2011

Petman bears an uncanny resemblance to the Terminator and is also into fitness.

(Credit: Video screenshot by Tim Hornyak/CNET)

Science fact often follows science fiction. Hence, the U.S. Army is funding development of a Terminator-style robot soldier.

Boston Dynamics has released new video of its Petman robot and its resemblance to the T-800 is uncanny.

The vid below shows the anthropomorphic bot (aka the Protection Ensemble Test Mannequin) walking on a treadmill, doing squats, and pumping out push-ups without breaking a sweat. All it needs is a metal skull head and a phased plasma rifle in the 40-watt range.

The maker of the notorious BigDog and AlphaDog quadruped bots says Petman is just "an anthropomorphic robot for testing chemical protection clothing used by the U.S. Army."

The droid, scheduled for delivery next year, is supposed to go through various maneuvers wearing a suit and taking heavy doses of chemical warfare agents. Roughly 6 feet tall, it will also mimic human physiology, generating heat and sweating for added realism.

Petman is designed to improve on previous machines that tested chemical weapons suits and is billed as "the first anthropomorphic robot that moves dynamically like a real person."

It's not the first machine with that advertising. Petman seems like Honda's P seriesprototypes of the 1990s that preceded the development of Asimo. Honda's mechatronic mascot, however, was designed to help out in a human environment, not a military lab, and thus has hands and AI capabilities.

Petman may be used in applications other than suit-testing, according to Boston Dynamics President Marc Raibert.

"There are all sorts of things robots like Petman could be used for," Raibert was quoted as saying by IEEE Spectrum. "Any place that has been designed for human access, mobility, or manipulation skills.

"Places like the Fukushima reactors could be accessed by Petman-like robots (or AlphaDogs), without requiring any human exposure to hazardous materials. Perhaps firefighting inside of buildings or facilities designed for human access, like on board ships designed for human crews."

And only armed robotic drones will live in the 51st state. You can see the yellow branch / frond that fell from a smashed cottonwood that we spliced into a tiny oak. Plus bee-keeper outfit. Plus tiny blue cups. While believing we finished walking around the average temperature increase, a very rapid economic growth came round the bend and gave way to understanding the luminous grassy ocean dog of at least 3000m based in a global meadow near population peak trees in mid-century beside the tall standing declines thereafter, however, several of the guy bears stood directly on the horses absorbing the grazing path in order to initiate rapid introduction of new and more efficient technologies while we exited the mad climate system barn to add more than 80% heat to the growing convergence among reasons, and said such contributing moments caused the warming sea level to expand inward, allowing capacity building to catch a flying ocean seawater wold for increased cultural and social interactions … Mary crushes the serpent. (Mary has a crush on the serpent) It rubs the lotion on it´s skin. (IT RUBS THE LOTION ON ITS SKIN) Panik ska byggas utav glädje. A little excerpt from my rope. And you ba: I am the fuzzy serpent. In flyy (I flutter) / And I crawl (and creeps) / Earth and air (earth, air, fire and water) / Mud and sky (clay thingy) / I have cases, but I will rise again (I have stumbled but hey what it is) Und das Klavier. This property is condensed etc. Things you consider when you are alone in the woods: Who will hear me if something happens? See me now! Sneaking around with a knife in a random kitchen. Takes on the breasts. Burn down the shit. The procession of pageantry and dangling children over jutting rocks. A carved out jack-o-lantern whose luminescence continues to roast the skinmeat after death. I wonder about the moment of jubilation that inspired this Circle of Life moment, when the shamanic meets baboon meets pop star meets hybrid of a hybrid raises up for the crowd of fans, the animal kingdom, a prince. We are poco a poco becoming witchy on a need-to-know basis. Our elders foist their little bottles of enzymes on us. Left alone again we find it’s a little too quiet and we forget the difference between good and bad bacteria. I evoke Audre Lorde. Differences spark the dialectic. After the artist talk I went to the bar with the artists and the curators and some friends. I drank two whiskey-sodas, half a beer, and then, out of curiosity, two “Sofias,” the Sofia Coppola “champagne in a can.” We hypothesize that the shonisaurs were killed and carried to the site by an enormous Triassic cephalopod, a kraken, with estimated length of approximately 30 m, twice that of the modern Colossal Squid Mesonychoteuthis. In this scenario, shonisaurs were ambushed by a Triassic kraken, drowned, and dumped on a midden like that of a modern octopus. Where vertebrae in the assemblage are disarticulated, disks are arranged in curious linear patterns with almost geometric regularity. L’art pour l’art? “We were fishing and we took the surprise to remove this rare unit. As it were at night then we did not realize, but later it watched it to one with a lantern and it saw that it had a third eye”, elated Julian Zmutt, one of the fishermen. Zmutt assured that it is the first time that happens to him and that the finding began to worry to the population because “it begins to speak of the nuclear power station.” SO What’s the Deal With Bee Venom Therapy? Compare Gifts, What’s the Deal With Bacon? Offer your insight as you drive around in your car. This is the place for just about any off topic under the sun.

30.10.2011

On Friday, the law firm of Steven J. Baum threw a Halloween party.The firm, which is located near Buffalo, is what is commonly referred to as a “foreclosure mill” firm, meaning it represents banks and mortgage servicers as they attempt to foreclose on homeowners and evict them from their homes. Steven J. Baum is, in fact, the largest such firm in New York; it represents virtually all the giant mortgage lenders, including Citigroup, JPMorgan Chase, Bank of America and Wells Fargo.

The party is the firm’s big annual bash. Employees wear Halloween costumes to the office, where they party until around noon, and then return to work, still in costume. I can’t tell you how people dressed for this year’s party, but I can tell you about last year’s.

That’s because a former employee of Steven J. Baum recently sent me snapshots of last year’s party. In an e-mail, she said that she wanted me to see them because they showed an appalling lack of compassion toward the homeowners — invariably poor and down on their luck — that the Baum firm had brought foreclosure proceedings against.

When we spoke later, she added that the snapshots are an accurate representation of the firm’s mind-set. “There is this really cavalier attitude,” she said. “It doesn’t matter that people are going to lose their homes.” Nor does the firm try to help people get mortgage modifications; the pressure, always, is to foreclose. I told her I wanted to post the photos on The Times’s Web site so that readers could see them. She agreed, but asked to remain anonymous because she said she fears retaliation.

Let me describe a few of the photos. In one, two Baum employees are dressed like homeless people. One is holding a bottle of liquor. The other has a sign around her neck that reads: “3rd party squatter. I lost my home and I was never served.” My source said that “I was never served” is meant to mock “the typical excuse” of the homeowner trying to evade a foreclosure proceeding.

A second picture shows a coffin with a picture of a woman whose eyes have been cut out. A sign on the coffin reads: “Rest in Peace. Crazy Susie.” The reference is to Susan Chana Lask, a lawyer who had filed a class-action suit against Steven J. Baum — and had posteda YouTube video denouncing the firm’s foreclosure practices. “She was a thorn in their side,” said my source.

A third photograph shows a corner of Baum’s office decorated to look like a row of foreclosed homes. Another shows a sign that reads, “Baum Estates” — needless to say, it’s also full of foreclosed houses. Most of the other pictures show either mock homeless camps or mock foreclosure signs — or both. My source told me that not every Baum department used the party to make fun of the troubled homeowners they made their living suing. But some clearly did. The adjective she’d used when she sent them to me — “appalling” — struck me as exactly right.

These pictures are hardly the first piece of evidence that the Baum firm treats homeowners shabbily — or that it uses dubious legal practices to do so. It is under investigation by the New York attorney general, Eric Schneiderman. It recently agreed to pay $2 million to resolve an investigation by the Department of Justice into whether the firm had “filed misleading pleadings, affidavits, and mortgage assignments in the state and federal courts in New York.” (In the press release announcing the settlement, Baum acknowledged only that “it occasionally made inadvertent errors.”)

MFY Legal Services, which defends homeowners, and Harwood Feffer, a large class-action firm, have filed a class-action suit claiming that Steven J. Baum has consistently failed to file certain papers that are necessary to allow for a state-mandated settlement conference that can lead to a modification. Judge Arthur Schack of the State Supreme Court in Brooklyn once described Baum’s foreclosure filings as “operating in a parallel mortgage universe, unrelated to the real universe.” (My source told me that one Baum employee dressed up as Judge Schack at a previous Halloween party.)

I saw the firm operate up close when I wrote several columns about Lilla Roberts, a 73-year-old homeowner who had spent three years in foreclosure hell. Although she had a steady income and was a good candidate for a modification, the Baum firm treated her mercilessly.

When I called a press spokesman for Steven J. Baum to ask about the photographs, he sent me a statement a few hours later. “It has been suggested that some employees dress in ... attire that mocks or attempts to belittle the plight of those who have lost their homes,” the statement read. “Nothing could be further from the truth.” It described this column as “another attempt by The New York Times to attack our firm and our work.”

I encourage you to look at the photographs with this column on the Web. Then judge for yourself the veracity of Steven J. Baum’s denial.

Facebook is just pixel puff off a virtual dog, and off these giant oil ;engines and their umbilical cords: this cord, that cord: that cord dangles with a puddle on the end. Migratory birds know where to go, something outside them tells them. But adjectives have a hard time, everything’s too fast, don’t bet on language, it’s in charge of bodies in area 51. The quantity theory: there will be always the exact same amount of vomit god. And yet, and yet, I climb three flights of stairs to get to San Francisco after having climbed three flights of stairs and after having climbed three flights of stairs and three flights of stairs to get to San Francisco I’m having somewhat yummy fun. Click. An oldish woman stands amid the dunes holding one end of a leash at the other of which is a big old ugly nasty-ass dog. A naked man down on his knees implores or prays or something. He’s on his knees. Does he see them? The sky is blue. She has a flower pattern printed on her skirt. You can see about 4 inches of the crack of his ass. Grass and weeds then desert are our planet’s critical response. I do pray for polar bears to keep on keepin on though. I didn’t totally fail Eskimo class. And I don't think we're getting anywhere near “what” but you refuse to use the G.P.S. For what it’s worth, when I was born I was the 75,726,646,121st person since history began. Now time has passed my electrodes are fucked and random voltage is shooting thru the middle of my chest. The movie opens with a robbery in progress. One of the robbers emerges from a grate, only to vanish, leaving behind shirt and shoes and pants and socks like in The Invisible Man. At the same time, sailors report attacks by Liquefied Flesh-Eaters when they board an abandoned ship. The LFEs are victims of a bomb test radiated into H-Men. Their “ghost ship” docks in Tokyo’s harbor and ooo-eee-ooo the H-Men escape into the city's sewer system. Soon people began to disappear due to a goo that surrounds and liquefies them while police and scientists race against time to I’m sure you get the rest. The climax bears some similarities to the finale of Them! which took place in the LA sewers where the army battled giant, mutant ants. Still, you can’t pass through Ghent & not pay your 4 Euros for yet another visit to “The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb.” I get these dog ear flaps on either side of my head [deleted text] name the criteria once frequenting the index. So one day she said there’s something I think I should tell you; I have no left hand. In Antwerp this afternoon at the Museum of Anaesthesia. What else? I’ll tell you. Noticing that she does, that he does and so on. Cette histoire se passe, po man with bandaged skull, self-portrait on cover of my Lebanese comic book, This leaves us with what. Arcadia. But what exactly is Arcadia, anyway? In the Greek mythos, it’s where Paris stands when he judges who has the greatest beauty: Hera, Athena, or Aphrodite. This is significant: he’s choosing between representatives of Olympus (power), Parnassus (knowledge) and Aphrodite (production), and he makes the choice from the only position outside their realms: Arcadia, the potential world, the might-yet-be. Art appears this time in the shape of a monkey on a seven-foot rope bed, using her aphasia and slurred speech to enunciate a list of words she can’t quite get to. Thus discomfort. Which is one reason Aufklarung’s not a synonym for Cartesian rationality, nor even necessarily a particular period in history, but something like a virtual tendency within human social collectives that exists, to use Badiou’s language in Logics of Worlds, with greater or lesser intensity or brightness at all times and places. What, then, is the nature of this tendency and intensity? For me– and others will differ –Enlightenment is a synonym for immanence. Or, as Tim says, “I’ve always had a soft spot for Leibniz. It's those fish ponds within fish ponds.” For me, it’s always been the clouds of bugs. I propose that we invent–that we provoke – that we do whatever it takes to make contact. I propose that we refuse binary consciousness – and in its place establish things more adaptable and changeable –sacrosanct habitats – fields of seeping, sumptuous fractals – vibratory infrared blotches as they are smearing. I think of these notes as wings: as the wet parts that will re-combine or fold: to make: a living structure. It is okay to feel this weak, this listless. And there to lie down, next to the ivy. Crystalline. Throbbing like a heart beneath a sheet. I told you there were problems w/my electrics. Of paper. White paper. Suddenly real. The frost on each green leaf. A dark or glossy leaf with creamy and rigid veins. There’s a name for the pyramid of three asterisks: asterism. By my green candle. My heart is still. Some lavender oil and an amber ring. Let’s not overmine or undermine. Dreams have attracted the curiosity of humankind for millennia. In A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream, Elliot Wolfson guides the reader through contemporary philosophical and scientific models to the archaic wisdom that the dream state and waking reality are on an equal phenomenal footing -- that the phenomenal world is the dream from which one must awaken by waking to the dream that one is merely dreaming that one is awake. By interpreting the dream within the dream, one ascertains the wakeful character of the dream and the dreamful character of wakefulness. Assuming that the manner in which the act of dreaming is interpreted may illuminate the way the interpreter comprehends human nature more generally, Wolfson draws on psychoanalysis, phenomenology, and neuroscience to elucidate the phenomenon of dreaming in a vast array of biblical, rabbinic, philosophical, and kabbalistic texts. To understand the dream, Wolfson writes, it is necessary to embrace the paradox of the fictional truth -- a truth whose authenticity can be gauged only from the standpoint of its artificiality. The dream, on this score, may be considered the semblance of the simulacrum, wherein truth is not opposed to deception because the appearance of truthfulness cannot be determined independently of the truthfulness of appearance.

28.10.2011

That’s what I love about comedy. The very idea of “nature”. Mike check. Mike check. What a sweet week for mice who live in walls. Wait, I mean what a sweet week for this pink skull and crossbones wrist thing. Wait, I mean what a sweet week for all these old MTA bus passes I am uselessly collecting. “If, for example, one clown drills a hole in the head of another and puffs rare Turkish tobacco from the hole …” a family crawls naked from the sea clutching plastic suitcases. “While normally it is said to be black moths that cover the sun, this is a mere cliché, since even rainbow-colored moths would have the same capacity for obstructing and absorbing lunar rays.” Tucked into a suitcase. Or sent in a crate. Like bones before they are bones. Like eyes in the time that follows talking. “Yes, ma’am. Cold coffee?” Cartographers in mountaineering gear and helmet-mounted floodlights descend into the New York subway system in 5,161 A.D., following luminescent trails of fluorescein dye, crawling, walking, rappelling into the underworld on the trail of ghostbuster rivers as subterranean ruins begin to shine. Do you work for the Washington Post? I don’t like your cop-and-kitty picture. I don’t like your ethics. I don’t like stepping on beetles when I walk out on my patio (they weren’t doing anything). You say, now chocolate. I say stomachache. I decide to put the hand into the bucket somehow. The bucket’s handle tastes like a worm bar snack. I decide to call the drunk dog’s family by bloody bandages on their clotheslines and spitting DNA all over the place. I was going to say it’s not so much a long poem as a long bible, but really it’s lots of short bibles. It’s so boring. And it’s absolutely what we know. How is that moral. Because of a kind of mustness. Burt’s cans of nuts and screws, broken floating, a horse in a Dumpster, seagulls collecting Styrofoam with their beaks, Mars sex, kicking ants, cashmere moons, warbling accountants, smoke that turns into bears and vice versa, dance-offs, Russian salads, laundromats outside of burnt down malls, people who give you their ADD medication for your birthday, Ivan Lendl nostalgia, Hawaiians with machine guns, fake boyfriends, people who marry houses, brotherssisters who are boxes of snakes, pummelhorsing social compromise, meat screams, oysters collected by widows, letters to jailed Lil Wayne, hearts too full of lung balloons, the fast snapping motion of a neck during the fickle stages of a swan-dive. Two-armed finger wiggle. This is what no guarantee looks like.

[Note: Sources: Merrill Markoe, as quoted in Nada Gordon, “untenable in a way that is tenable”, at Ululations, 27 Oct 011; New Yorker article, as quoted in Timothy Morton, “Ecology without Nature in The New Yorker”, at Ecology without Nature, 27 Oct 011 (tho the article is unnamed, Morton notes that it is in the October 24, 2011 issue, on page 65); JBR (re: “We Are the 99%”, an event I helped organize/facilitate held 27 Oct 011, where people from Occupy Riverside and Occupy LA came to UCR to talk to students, etc); Mike Young, “One sky is dark and one is monochrome”, at HTMLGIANT, 27 Oct 011; Graham Harman, “Expressionist realism”, at Object-Oriented Philosophy, 27 Oct 011; Bhanu Kapil, “Ban Dreams Of Being Eaten By Wolves”, at Was Jack Kerouac a Punjabi?, 27 Oct 011; Geoff Manaugh, “Dye-Tracing Archaeology”, at BLDG/BLOG, 27 Oct 011; JBR, but see Ken Layne, of Wonkette, as quoted in Jacob Sloan, “Washington Post’s Coverage Of Oakland Police Rampage: Officer Petting Kitten”, at Disinformation, 27 Oct 011; Levi R Bryant, “Things I Don’t Like”, at Larval Subjects, 27 Oct 011; Ish Klein, “From A Book of Changes”, at notnostrums 6; Eileen Myles, “Anselm’s Poem”, at Harriet; Jodi Dean, “Take the leap, take Wall Street: this is what impossibility looks like #occupywallstreet”, at I cite, 27 Oct 011]

27.10.2011

Boris was thirsty so he watered his plants. After 14 years, Ram, Sita and Laxman return from exile. I said: “What's that?” He said: “A machete.” The power went out. Scorpio New Moon. $1.50 a mile. WATCH THOU FOR THE MUTANT. Everyone sings once a day; it’s not required; just expected. Though we’ve been together all these decades, I don’t think I ever saw you good before this goddamn protest. Beatific apes, winged baboons or renaissance orangutans, why are we so gorgeous? Sweetie, it’s been so long since I had a leisurely gaze at your magnificence, fixated as I was by the holograms. The beast had a comforting yogurt smell. Did you click aah today? Why is the bridge flat? Explain the island. Just had the best possible conversation with MM and TG. You can build your earth out of potato shavings I would not lie to you gardenias butter beans in pig sauce. I weave pubic hair for dolls and frogs naively lit by your orange lamps. Thank fucking god for nonhumans! —after all, there’s something highly compelling about a speculative soundtrack for an unmade remake (perhaps this could be the first soundtrack optioned by Hollywood for a film it later serves to score) — but also about the technical set-up. Encircle the lodge before entering / encircle the circle afterwards. The last time I was in the same place as such a key international gathering was in Prague in August 2006, when the astronomers voted to expel Pluto from the solar system. [Here the paper deteriorates] [The paper gets worse] [Holes] [But here the paper is torn] Make no mistake; our teachings will not lead you to adopt self-congratulatory attitudes. Likewise, a knife cannot cut a neutrino, and ultraviolet affects are withdrawn for me. Do you think, Peter, do you think Tink has been spreading some sort of bacterium around here? If the water in there is all a-murky, it’s because it was collected back then; can’t quite remember just when; as for the little tadpole – he’s gone away. Get me the scissors, when I am a million candles, be my feet. Sooner or later, most people need to move something too heavy to lift or too awkward to handle. We’re not floating around in a gaseous haze. Is it possible to damage your womb while moving something with your leg? Gold bars. The earth. Ocarina of time. For days we climbed upwards inside the perfumed beard, until finally the air became colder, and we found the heavy soft globular instruments. Then, we continued on, ascending magnificent heights, strange perfume [tear gas] in our nostrils!

26.10.2011

LOWER MANHATTAN — Occupy Wall Street protesters won support from Downtown's community board — but were told to clean up their act.

Community Board 1 voted overwhelmingly Tuesday to support the demonstrators' right to protest, despite residents' complaints that the occupants of the makeshift camp in Zuccotti Park were noisy and dirty — with some accused of using the neighborhood as a "toilet."

But it agreed with CB1 member Michael Connolly, who said "This is an example of democracy and community-building at work."

The resolution calls on the protesters, who have been camping in the park since Sept. 17, to adhere to a Good Neighbor Policy that rejects drugs and violence, respects sanitary regulations and limits drumming to two hours a day.

However, Occupy Wall Street's decision-making body, called the General Assembly, voted Monday night to drum for four hours a day, from noon to 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., and those times are non-negotiable, several protesters said Tuesday night.

Some community board members wanted CB1's resolution to be stronger and asked the protesters to return a portion of Zuccotti Park to local residents and workers. But most board members opted not to make that additional request, so it was not included in the resolution.

Joe Lerner, a board member and longtime Downtown resident, said he doesn't mind that there's no longer room for him to eat lunch in Zuccotti Park.

"I gladly give up my seat to the occupiers, because they have a just cause that should resonate with everyone here, no matter what," Lerner said, to wide applause.

The board voted after hearing from dozens of residents on both sides of the issue, from those who praised the resolution's defense of freedom of speech to those who slammed the board for not addressing the community's concerns more aggressively.

Linda Gerstman, 40, a Broad Street resident, said she felt the board was siding with the protesters.

"If the members of the community board want to continue to advocate for the protesters rather than the members of the community, they should resign and do so," she said.

But Susan Jennings, 47, a Financial District resident who brings her second-grade daughter to the protests each morning on her way to school at P.S. 234, said Occupy Wall Street is a valuable learning experience for all those who live in the neighborhood.

“My feelings stink, as if standing on fishes.” Thumb and forefinger twitching, lightly, plucking from the ground and placing something in the air. I’m a mermaid in a corridor, lying on the floor, convulsing when a person touched my eyes through the nylon veil -- leaves, wool, white sheets, water. I am concerned with this alcohol of approaching smoke. I am concerned with the debris, or “residue”, of the gesture … No. I’m just trying to milk the present until its last dying breath. Because bats have no bankers. Because the cops busted up Oscar Grant Park. During the Upper Paleolithic – that wonderful time when there were, max, 150 000 people in Europe, and life was good for around twenty thousand years – the cave artists generally didn’t draw or paint or engrave humans. There were your stray vulvas, the masked bird man, many hand prints, but generally – no people. Instead, there were mammoths. There were lions. There were rhinos and horses. Oddly, fewer reindeer, even though reindeer meat was that era’s Spam. Deleuze and Guattari talk of the special faciality of the West – this seems right, on all accounts – but to show so little interest in people when one has mastered perspective, and the expressive character of les bêtes? That seems quite significant. But of what? “Cute Air Creation myth: Well first came whore, then came the soap and type mason and the wheel and the mosquito, and then chicken, then egg and then the eel, the universe and and and and and. But whore was first! Read about those massage places yesterday: Happy Ending (with blisters in their hands). Was a little inspired so I made a music video for it where I tried to imitate a stripper, then I could not crawl around longer and made an ugly picture montage instead. But that you may never see. You know I’m a Doberman pinscher. Inviting and is nice and then bites ass. I will. I’m going now. ETC. Cultivate a new breed of teddy bears in glass jars. They will take over the world. It will become fluffy. I am Magneto who desperately tries to move a tiny coin with Bony fingers, though I can’t. And then they die. Then I saw Drive. What's up? Another bony and friends of victim’s girl that causes chaos in the mind of logs.” This is really fascinating stuff, Ryan. A bit discouraged you beat me to putting in genitalia parameters. Thanks Nester! Putting in genitalia parameters is what I do best. In Information Theory, noise is still considered information, Minotauric Equivocations with Squalid Referent Machines perpendicular to some putative “given,” which we take to mean a plasm / replace the 1's and 0's with appropriate chars */ for (yy = 0; yy < y; ++yy) { for (xx = 0; xx < x; ++xx) { i = (yy * x) + xx; return (0); treyf; these are inexplicable occurrences with inexplicable aftermaths. “So we are faced with a new space for public culture somewhere between reality and simulation, between action and acting – and this holds not just for latent psychotics but for the rest of us as well.”

[Note: Sources: Bhanu Kapil, “Andrea Rexillius Class Visit”, at Was Jack Kerouac a Punjabi?, 25 Oct 011; Michael Palmer, and Del Ray Cross, as quoted in Cross’s “mdvii”, at Anachronizms, 25 Oct 011; John Berryman, “Dream Song 63”, as seen at wood s lot, 25 Oct 011; JBR (early this morning the man rousted Occupy Oakland; lots of uniformed psychos with guns … Oscar Grant Park is Occupy’s name for the site of the late great encampment: what the official asswipes call Frank Ogawa Plaza); Roger Gathman, “Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for the Holocene!”, at Limited, Inc., 25 Oct 011; Stina Kajaso, “Happy Ending (cute german gril work in hotel)”, at SONOFDAD, 25 Oct 011; Daniel Nester, and Ethan Ryan, comments appended to Ryan’s “[Guest Post] God, Devil, Google by Ethan Ryan”, at We Who Are About To Die, 25 Oct 011 (“Wow. 1881 was a good year for vagina”); blurb for Joseph Nechvatal, Immersion into Noise, at Open Humanities Press, as quoted in Timothy Morton, “Critical Climate Change First Book”, at Ecology without Nature, 25 Oct 011; Scott Wilkerson, “Minotauric Equivocations with Squalid Referent Machine”, as quoted in Jake Berry, “Poetry by Scott Wilkerson”, at 9th St Laboratories, 25 Oct 2011; name of Rob Kovitz’s press; Margaret Inga Wiatrowski, “About”, at margaretinga.com; Thomas de Zengotita, The Gunfire Dialogues, Notes On The Reality of Virtuality, as seen on a treyf postcard]